The lost legacy..

 Just a week ago,

My mom gave me news that gently broke a part of me.

All the terrifying things that used to shatter me into pieces earlier now break in a gentler fashion.

It’s like a crack across your phone’s screen—it doesn’t shatter completely, but deep inside, you know you’ve almost lost it.

"Our dog passed away," she said.

I wanted to sob, shout, and question, but the words died before they could be born. Instead, a small stream of tears rolled down my cheeks.

"Hello... Hello... Hello..." My mom hung up, thinking the call got disconnected.

How could I respond with such a gigantic weight on my tongue?

This news lingered with me the entire day. And the soul-searching question I’d been trying to sweep under the rug came haunting back: Is it worth it?

As I pick up my laptop to write this post, after a deep slumber, I can’t help but recount how epic his life had been.

Despite being a street dog, he became the most loved creature on our street. While we humans mostly followed a three-course meal, his was, without a doubt, closer to a ten-course feast. Every household, before eating, would call upon him. He’d always be served first, anything eventually reaching our stomachs.

My mom, who was strictly against having a dog at home—arguing that I alone sufficed in the house, and she couldn’t afford to take care of two—spoke to him in Gujarati, pointing out how well he understood her.

Whenever kids visited our home, they would marvel at how fantastic, gentle, and caring our dog was. He took a special liking to my mom, accompanying her everywhere—whether it was long morning walks or quick trips for groceries, vegetables, and milk. Together, they walked in all their might and glory. Though I never said it aloud, seeing them together always made my heart skip a beat.

The void he left in our lives is massive.

But being sad would be the worst thing we could do because that gentleman taught us to smile, even on the toughest and worst days of our lives. He taught us to walk side by side with the ones that matter, every single day.

And so, I take his demands and teachings seriously, as I always have—smiling with compassion for the people God has blessed me with.

My first encounter with the legend